


(Rain) Until September

by DetectiveRoboRyan



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: 50s Aesthetics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cliche Indie Movie AU, F/F, Fluff, Plot So Thin as to be Transparent, Summer Romance, Teen Romance, The AU Literally Nobody Needed, discontinued, mysterious illnesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-04-10 10:31:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4388429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveRoboRyan/pseuds/DetectiveRoboRyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every two weeks during the summer, Emmeryn Grace comes into the only soda fountain in town and orders the same thing, without fail, and pays the same way, without fail, and leaves with the trace of a smile. One summer, it's on the house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Consider Me Smitten

**Author's Note:**

> Cliche teen romance movie AU, go! Honestly this is going to be SO absurdly fluffy and full of nonsense it's ridiculous. But someone has to fill up the Emmeryn/Phila tag with this bullshit and I guess that someone is me! So, cheers to everyone, I hope you like this saccharine masterpiece.

Two scoops of sugar-free key lime sherbet. One scoop of rocky road ice cream plus one scoop of bubblegum with strawberry syrup. One strawberry kid’s scoop with rainbow sprinkles and a candy stick. And to top it all off, two bottles of water and one of the individually-wrapped peppermints out of the dish on the counter. All payed for with a single hundred-dollar bill, with a smile and a request to keep the change.  
  
Phila had been working the soda counter for three years. And even before then, when she wiped down tables or taste-tested the ice cream flavors, the same three customers, three siblings, came in with the same order and the same method of payment, every other Tuesday starting at the end of May and continuing until September.  
  
Since she was around eleven, maybe, those same customers had been coming in. And the one who ordered was a girl a little younger but a bit taller, with pretty blond hair tied into two loose ponytails that rested on her shoulders, that always wore big straw hats that shaded her face and short-sleeved dresses in light colors.  
  
Phila knew a lot about her by then, sort of. She never ordered sugared desserts for herself, liked key lime, got thirsty after eating ice cream (which was what the bottles of water were for), and had enough money to pay for a sixteen-dollar order with a hundred dollar bill and not want the change back. She had a sweet smile and was very nice to her two younger siblings because she bought them ice cream every time, and made her brother carry around the water bottles in his backpack because her purse wasn’t big enough.  
  
But this year would be different. Phila was sure of it.  
  
May twenty-ninth was the day she’d come in. She’d get the same order and pay the same way, and she would be gone before Phila could give her the change. Of course, that last part would be different, because Phila had already paid the sixteen dollars and forty-four cents to which the order came out, so she’d say it was on the house. Or that it was free of charge, she hadn’t really decided yet. That was a potentially dangerous thing, to have not decided ahead of time, but it’d be fine, right?  
  
The tick of the clock almost seemed to mock Phila as she wiped down the surface of the bar and made sure the ice cream tubs were full. Tick tock, it said, because those customers would be coming in sometime in the middle of the afternoon and it was four already. Tick tock, because Phila, you’re spending all of this time making sure everything is perfect for customers that might not even come. Tick tock. Shut up, you fucking asshole.  
  
Phila glared at the thing, fixed over the revolving front door of the soda fountain. It was a cheap clock with a tacky white metal rim, with a ring of neon around the inside that lit up when someone clicked the switch behind it. That made it nearly impossible to read, though, and the shop’s lights were always on, so there was no point in even having it.  
  
God damn Phila hated that clock.  
  
It was nearly four-thirty. That was about the right time, wasn’t it? Phila had been staring out the windows for the past fifteen minutes, praying she hadn’t missed them walk past like they were going into another ice cream place (that was ridiculous, this was the only ice cream place in the entire town), and praying she’d notice them when they first walked into her line of sight so she’d know to act natural.  
  
She tucked a few flyaway strands of pale hair back into her hat, looking in the mirror behind the bar. While she was at it, she straightened the little papery hat itself, and made sure her bowtie was tight enough to be professional but not too tight, because she didn’t want to look like a loser. Her sleeves were pushed up, of course, because what kind of idiot wore their sleeves all the way down with a bowtie, and she looked about as cool as any soda jerk at an oldies-themed soda fountain ever could. Perfect.  
  
“Hey, your order’s on the house today,” she practiced in the mirror, clearing her throat. She couldn’t look like she was trying too hard, of course, it had to be casual. “You know what, for you, your order’s free of charge… hmm.” She frowned. ‘On the house’ sounded cooler, but ‘free of charge’ made her sound less like a douchebag. And, look at that, more hair had escaped. Dammit, what was up with her hair today?  
  
Phila grumbled angrily to herself as she shoved the loose hair back in. Leaving it out wasn’t sanitary. What if she got a hair in a customer’s ice cream by accident? That’d be catastrophic.  
  
When the bell on the shop’s door rang, Phila almost didn’t notice and almost continued scowling at herself and practicing lines in the mirror— but she did notice it, and promptly spun one hundred and eighty degrees and kept casually wiping down the nearly-pristine bar like she hadn’t just been going over her lines like a complete nerd.  
  
She looked up, though, and sure enough, she was right! Four thirty-seven PM, May twenty-ninth, a Tuesday— and there she was.  
  
It was like a figure knit from sunshine and dandelion puffs had floated ethereally into the humble mortal soda fountain. She was tall, still just a bit taller than Phila, and slender and just a little bit tanned from simply being outdoors. The hem of her aqua-blue dress fluttered gracefully just around her knees, and the way the sunshine from outside was illuminating her, it looked like she might as well have a pair of wings.  
  
Absolutely breathtaking.  
  
Absolutely right in front of her. Phila blinked the sparkles out of her eyes and clenched her hand around the rag in it. “Welcome to the Soda Fountain,” she blurted. That was literally the shop’s name but if it was the only soda fountain around, Phila figured that was allowed.  
  
“Thanks,” the divine vision in front of her said in that soft, gentle voice of hers. “Could I get, ah…”  
  
“I-I know what your order is, miss,” Phila finished. “Two scoops of sugar-free key lime sherbet, one scoop of rocky road ice cream plus one scoop of bubblegum with strawberry syrup, one strawberry kid’s scoop with rainbow sprinkles and a candy stick, two bottles of water, and one of these.” Because she was _just that good_ (and had prepared the order in advance and stuck it in the freezer), Phila pulled out three cups of specialized ice cream, two bottles of water, and held out the peppermint in her open palm.  
  
The girl in front of her looked expectedly stunned (and still beautiful). “How did you get all that?”  
  
“I started working here at about the same time you started coming,” Phila shrugged modestly. “I noticed you ordered the same thing every time, so. It just became memory.”  
  
“I didn’t think anyone would remember all that,” the girl admitted. “That’s amazing.”  
  
_You’re amazing._ “I guess I’m just good with remembering things.” Phila chuckled sheepishly. “It’s on the— it’s free, by the way. Th-the order. I insist.”  
  
“Well, alright,” the girl ceded, taking the ice cream and handing the rocky road and bubblegum scoops to a blue-haired boy in a shirt with the sleeves cut off looking pensively at his cell phone, and the other to a little blonde girl too short to see over the counter without standing on her tiptoes. Her siblings, obviously— Phila had seen them every time they came into the shop, too, though the youngest one had been a baby the first time. Had it really been so long?  
  
“So, could I maybe know your name?” Phila ventured, hoping she didn’t sound too much like an entitled douchebag. “I mean, you know mine, it’s… it’s on the… tag… thing…” She flicked her nametag idly, feeling more and more hesitant as her sentence trailed off.  
  
“Oh, it’s Emmeryn,” the girl said simply, like it was no big deal. “Emmeryn Grace. And you’re Phila, aren’t you?”  
  
“Yeah, it’s… nametag,” Phila finished lamely. Her cheeks felt as red as tomatoes. So much for being cool, right?  
  
Emmeryn chuckled a little, making Phila’s heart skip a beat, as she picked up her ice cream and stuck the water bottles into her brother’s backpack. “Well, Phila,” she said, the little lilt in her voice making Pila’s knees feel rubbery. “I guess I’ll see you around?”  
  
“Yeah,” Phila wheezed, waving as Emmeryn (what a gorgeous name) and her siblings left the shop, leaving Phila alone to stare dreamily at nothing at all.  
  
The next morning, Phila arrived at work to a surprise. It was a good surprise, of course, but it was such a surprising variety of surprise she wasn’t sure how to feel at first. There was Emmeryn Grace, standing outside the door of the soda shop under the awning. She had a pink dress today, instead of the mint green it’d been yesterday, and she held an envelope in her hand.  
  
“Hey,” Phila called, puzzled. It was early, and she was alone this time— no siblings. Had she walked all the way from the vacation homes?  
  
“Hey yourself,” Emmeryn replied, smiling in a way that made Phila’s heart flutter. “Are you the only one who works here?”  
  
“No, my brother and my dad make the ice cream,” she explained. “My mom handles all the financing. But I work the counter, yeah. I have for awhile.”  
  
 “I know you’re not on the job right now, but…” Emmeryn’s eyes looked away, her face turning a bashful shade of pink. “You do accept tips, right?”  
  
“Sure,” Phila shrugged, unlocking the front door and turning the lights on. Immediately the soda fountain came to life, with the jukebox in the corner starting to play an aesthetically-appropriate song. Phila had practically memorized every one of the songs it ever played. Why didn’t they just get a new record for it? But it was better than listening to the freezers all day, so oldies songs it was.  
  
As she was about to go in, Ememryn pushed the envelope into her hands. There was something small and crinkly in it, as well as papers, as it was fairly thick. “Here,” she said. “Take this. It’s from my siblings and I.”  
  
“Are you sure? I mean—“ Phila stuttered over her next words, idly tucking hair back into the bun she put it in for work. “I only just really met you yesterday.”  
  
“Take it,” Emmeryn insisted. “I wish I could stay, but I’m not supposed to leave my siblings alone at the house for too long. But, ah… consider what’s in there, alright?”   
“Oh, oh, yeah,” Phila said eagerly. “Definitely, I’ll consider. I’ll consider so much, it won’t know what hit it! Whatever it is I’m considering, that is.”  
  
Emmeryn giggled, and Phila felt like the all flowers in a fifty foot radius just bloomed. “Alright, you make sure of that! And… I’ll see you around, right?”  
  
“See you around,” Phila echoed, grinning goofily. Emmeryn smiled at that and then left, holding her sun hat on her head with one hand and resting the other on the strap of her purse.  
  
Phila sighed. She was such a lucky person.  
  
The jukebox played some old, upbeat love song Phila recognized and knew but had no real connection to, the kind with peppy lyrics and lots of saxophone. She left the letter on the counter as she rebuttoned her shirt collar, tied her bowtie, and pinned her hat to her hair, but kept glancing back to it until she was finally able to read it.  
  
There were multiple things, she was surprised to find. A few fancy-looking hard candies wrapped in cellophane, a folded post-it note, and the main thing— a piece of paper covered in drawings done in colored marker, with writing in the center.  
  
    _Thank you for remembering our ice cream!_  
_Signed Emmeryn, Chrom, and Lissa Grace_  
_P.S.— We hope you like the candy!_  
  
The drawings were varied, and matched the penmanships of the different names— Chrom and Lissa must’ve been the younger siblings, Phila reasoned. It was touching they’d made a card for her. Phila would tuck it in her band notebook.  
  
She popped a piece of candy into her mouth without really caring what it was. Emmeryn had given it to her, and Phila found herself with the thought that she’d gladly eat anything Emmeryn gave her if eating it was the intention. She sucked on it idly while opening the post-it, which was in Emmeryn’s handwriting.  
  
    _I really enjoyed talking to you the other day. Maybe we could talk more? When you get off work, stop by my house at 6 Lakeview Drive. I’d love to hang out with you!_  
  
Phila nearly fainted then and there. Emmeryn wanted to talk to her more? Phila nearly ran out the door then and there for the chance to spend more time with Emmeryn— she had no idea where Lakeview Drive was without looking at a map, but dammit, she’d canoe across the lake if she had to! Something like this couldn’t happen often.  
  
She wondered what hanging out with Emmeryn would like. Maybe they’d take a walk by the lake (Phila did know a good scenic route), or just sit on her porch and drink soda and share stories. Phila would try and make her laugh with her dumb jokes, or maybe she’d bring her guitar and play a song if Emmeryn was alright with it. Maybe they’d become friends, and talk more and more and exchange emails, and maybe they’d even hold hands a little. Her hands looked really soft, after all, not calloused at the fingertips like Phila’s. It would be nice to hold hands with Emmeryn, Phila thought. Even just once.  
  
Phila felt a sensation of incredible happiness come over her, bubbling out from her core like sugar coming to a boil in the process of making candy. She absolutely couldn’t sit still— she started tapping her foot, then moving her shoulders, and then she was dancing to the peppy song now coming from the jukebox behind the counter, wearing a bowtie and an apron and suspenders and a dumb paper hat and plastic gloves, with a giant, stupid grin on her face like she’d just won the lottery.  
  
And, to Phila, she might as well have. Work just couldn’t end quickly enough!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that plays when Phila is first entering the soda fountain: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oa_4fK7aVao  
> The song that plays when Phila is reading Emm's note: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NGFToiLtXro  
> The song Phila dances to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s3bksUSPB4c
> 
> I'm a nerd that likes oldies songs, sue me


	2. Play a Love Song

That afternoon, at exactly 5:04 PM, the door to 6 Lakeview Drive was opened by a pudgy, pigtailed seven-year-old with choked-looking dandelions in her hair and crayons in her small hands. That must’ve been Lissa, the one who had drawn the flowers all over the card Phila had gotten.  
  
“You’re the ice cream lady,” she said solemnly, blinking her large blue eyes and rubbing at a smudge of chocolate on her cheek. “Didja like the drawings?”  
  
Phila immediately nodded. “Of course I did,” she replied. “And they were so good, I decided I should pay you a visit in person.”  
  
“No, you wanna see my sister,” Lissa said matter-of-factly, catching Phila off-guard. “It’s okay. She likes you a lot and thinks you’re real cute, and it’s true ‘cause Emm told me an’ Emm never lies.”  
  
“Lissa, stop leaving the door open!” someone, who was undoubtedly the younger brother, called from further in the house.  
  
“‘Kay,” Lissa called back. “You can come in. Emm’s making herself look prettier.”  
  
“Thank you,” Phila managed, for lack of anything else to say. She was still somewhat reacting to the fact that Lissa had relayed information that Emmeryn thought she was cute. _Phila was cute!_ She wanted to bury her face in her hands and emit a high-pitched squeal until she turned blue and passed out, in the hope of expressing the extent of how incredibly ecstatic this made her.  
  
She cleared her throat awkwardly as Lissa padded back into what appeared to be the main living area, where Emmeryn’s brother had entertained himself with a video game. She tugged at the neck of her dark gray shirt idly— the same shirt she’d stolen from her older brother and cut the sleeves off of because she needed something to wear under her work shirt. And her shorts were frayed at the edges and splattered with paint, because she only needed to dress up what customers saw from in front of the counter, though now she was wishing she’d at least been mandated to wear khakis or something that wasn’t straight out of the “unkempt careless teen” section of Old Navy. Emmeryn would think she didn’t care!  
  
Well it was too late to go home and change now. She’d just have to deal with the faux pas that came with being underdressed for a date— if it was a date at all, which it probably wasn’t, because no one had ever said it was, so, what would make it a date then? They were just hanging out. Totally not a date.  
  
Cripes, Phila hoped she wouldn’t embarrass herself. But that was probably too much to hope for, because Phila had a talent for doing that.  
  
The sound of rushed footsteps down the stairs snapped Phila out of the temporary doldrums brought about by self-doubt and a related cocktail of negativity she really could do without— footsteps that could only belong to Emmeryn. And there was muttering, and Emmeryn swung around the corner into the front hallway adjusting the ties to her ponytails, which were freshly washed and brushed and glistened like sunshine in the blue afternoon light through the windows. She looked like a creature made from filtered light and dewdrops and Phila felt like she should be looking away, but she was riveted.  
  
“You came!” Emmeryn said excitedly. As if she wouldn’t! “I was worried the note sounded too much like an order and you wouldn’t show!”  
  
“No, no, of course I’d come if you invited me,” Phila insisted. “Who would pass up spending time with you? A-and, you know, I mean that in the… least awkward-est way possible. If it _is_ possible.” She felt her face heat up towards the end there, and she stared at her fidgeting thumbs sheepishly. Way to go, Phila.  
  
Emmeryn blushed, looking at the ground in front of her with a shy smile on her face. They stood there for a moment, blushing in sync and not looking at each other like a pair of awkward teenage girlfriends just before their first date, before Phila cleared her throat and broke the silence.  
  
“Well, uh, since I’m here,” she managed. “I know this great route by the lake we can walk, if you want. And I brought my guitar—“ she cringed at how dumb and douchebaggy that sounded.  
 “You play guitar?” Emm sounded interested, like every love interest in every teenage summer romance movie to the lead, who of _course_ played the guitar, what self-respecting indie romcom protatgonsit didn’t— but Phila was glad because it gave them a foothold for conversation.  
  
“Yeah, I’ve always liked stringed instruments,” she replied, grinning a little. “I’ll tell you some cool stories from band while we walk— er, if you want to, that is.”  
  
“I’d love to,” Emmeryn said with a shy smile, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. Phila inwardly pulled a fist of victory, but instead of doing that on the outside too and embarrassing herself, she grinned happily and held open the front door for Emmeryn. _After you, milady._ (Only she wouldn’t say that because it wasn’t 1627.)  
  
Phila wheeled her bike along the sidewalk bordering smooth cobblestone paths, and Emmeryn walked next to her. They weren’t touching, but Phila couldn’t help but think about how nice it might have been to just hold hands then— just a little, as the early evening sunlight shone on the rows of expensive retro-style vacation townhouses rich people stayed in during the summer to get away from the hustle and bustle of the working year (though most still worked anyway, and let their families have fun in the rest of the town.)  
  
“Hey, won’t someone notice if you’re gone?” Phila asked, curious. “I mean, your little sister saw me at the door, they’ll know you’ve gone _some_ where.”  
  
Emmeryn shrugged. “My dad’s there, if he asks they’ll just tell him I’m out. I do this all the time— leaving the house, I mean. It isn’t like the crime rate is very high in this town, and as long as I remember to take my bag, everything is fine. What about you, though?”  
  
Phila thought back to that afternoon, when her brother had asked what was up with her when she kept dancing to the jukebox behind the ice cream counter, and she’d seriously considered pulling out sparklers and waving them around singing about how she had a date, and cringed at recalling it. “I just told them I was going to be home late,” she said with a shrug. “No big deal.”  
  
Emmeryn hummed in amusement. “In most movies, this would be a setup for romantic dialogue between us. Chill or borderline negligent parents, an entire summer open to do whatever we so please in a free-range town with safety guaranteed— I’ve seen it happen. Directors love it.”  
  
“We’re not straight, though,” Phila commented. “It must be an indie film.” Either that or a shitty fanfic, but that was enough of that.  
  
Phila looked over at Emmeryn, noting the way late afternoon light glanced off her features, noting the features themselves. Delicate contours and soft shadows abound, shaded just so by the wide brim of her hat. She didn’t look like an ethereal being in that moment, but she did look like someone Phila wanted to sit with and talk with and hold hands with for as long as the summer lasted.  
  
She let herself let out a silent, happy sigh. This would be the best summer yet.  
  
“Hey, there’s a path to the shore down there,” Emmeryn noted, looking at the little off-road path and the wooden post sign pointing to the lake. “Was that what you were talking about?”  
  
“Yeah, actually,” Phila replied, locking her bike to the sign and taking her guitar case off the back. “It’s a little off the beaten path, but for how close we get to the shore, it’s worth it. You don’t mind, right?”  
  
“No, of course not!” Emmeryn actually seemed excited. “I’ve never noticed this path before, even though I’ve been here every summer. Is it a local teen thing?”  
  
Phila didn’t tell her the ‘locals’ were mostly the people that worked in the shops and country clubs, and there were only a handful of other kids their age employed for the summer at various locales. “Sure,” she said instead. “Come on, best not to waste daylight.”  
  
They held hands now, but Phila told herself it was out of necessity— so Emmeryn wouldn’t trip and fall on the uneven path through the grasses down to the shore, since her sandals didn’t give the best grip. But Emmeryn’s hand was so soft under hers, she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to let go.  
  
The grainy sand on the lakeshore shifted beneath the soles of Phila’s sneakers as she walked hand in hand with Emmeryn, and it would’ve been easy to trip right then, but Phila didn’t allow herself to think about that. Her shoes were scuffed, well-worn Chuck Taylors in white, with broken laces and most of the design on the soles smoothed out to a flat rubber surface, but they kept the sand off her feet and kept her steady. She glanced at the rubber tips of her shoes, smiling a little, and then back to Emmeryn.  
  
“I’ve never been this close to the lakeshore before,” Emmeryn remarked, a hand on her hat to keep the breeze from blowing it off. “I’m not supposed to go too close to large bodies of water, because of the differential between temperatures and wind and things.”  
  
Phila’s face fell. “Well, we could walk somewhere else,” she suggested. “There’s a park near my house with a little frog pond, it’s a pretty good spot to hang out.”  
  
“Are you kidding?” Emmeryn said excitedly. “I’ll take the lake over a pond any day! Honestly, the whole reason we come out here in the summer is so I can get better air in my lungs, and dad keeps me cooped up indoors or taking Chrom and Lissa to the playground or something. It's ridiculous-- I have _athsma,_ not the bubonic plague.”  
  
“Better air?” Phila asked. “Do you live in the city, or something?”  
  
“Yeah, in this apartment close to my dad’s workplace,” Emmeryn replied. “It’s one of those big apartment towers where rich people live. And the air up higher is so thin, I mostly stay indoors when I’m at home, and then the air down below isn’t much cleaner. There’s car exhaust and litter and things. And the city still hasn’t read my letters about forming a volunteer cleanup committee!”  
  
“That doesn’t sound very fair,” Phila commented. “But yeah, I agree. No one even really drives here, it’s just not practical. Plus, have you ever tried driving on cobblestone?” Phila put her hands out in front of her, like they were on a steering wheel, and made a sound to imitate bumpy driving. Phila wasn’t sure if the streets were cobblestones just for the sake of the aesthetic they had going on or because it would make people drive less and thus preserve the quality of the air, but Phila didn’t realy pay much attention to that sort of thing.  
  
Emmeryn laughed, a sweet sound that made color rise to Phila’s cheeks, and nudged her gently. “I was wondering about that!” she remarked. “But you get a bus, right? Doesn’t that have any trouble?”  
  
“It’s a bus,” Phila scoffed. “Buses don’t care about cobblestone. Or sidewalks, for that matter. If it’s not an active minefield, a bus will get through it. They’re like the chaotic neutral cousin of mail vans.”  
  
“I admire mail van drivers,” Emmeryn commented. “And the postal system in general. It’s incredible— that’s what a country is really built on, a good mail system. Early on, mail was the only way to get a message from one place to the other. At its essence, the mail system is about communication, the foundations of every relationship from pretty much ever. It’s so incredibly important to maintaining a stable society. Letter carriers are the defenders of the light of knowledge, free communication, and the exchange of ideas. They are the bold toters of all those little papery conduits of freedom, the white postmarked angels that whisper a message on their deliverance, a promise to the yearning: _There is hope yet._ *“  
  
Phila blinked, unsure of all she’d just said. She wasn’t quite sure she’d ever met anyone as impassioned about the postal service as Emmeryn was— and this wasn’t talking about the band.  
 “I don’t know much about the mail, to be honest, or much about government,” Phila admitted. “But I think that letter carriers and garbage workers and pizza delivery people are the real heroes in the realms of public service.”  
  
Emmeryn nodded thoughtfully. “Usually when I go on like that, people tell me to stop stressing my vocal chords. I think it just means they want me to shut up.”  
  
“Your vocal chords make beautiful sounds, so I’m not complaining,” Phila said without thinking, and promptly turned red as a beet. “I mean… I like listening. And you talk about the things you love in a way that makes it obvious you’re passionate about them, and… and you have a really nice voice, just in general. I could listen to you read a phone book and I wouldn’t mind. I never want you to shut up.”  
  
Emmeryn was silent for a long minute, and Phila began to get worried that was creepy. She hadn’t really been thinking about it, so she hadn’t filtered it— surprisingly, it’d come out more coherent than a lot of her thoughts. More often than not, if she caught herself speaking before thinking, thoughts got jumbled up on the way out and she said something that wasn’t quite right instead of what she meant to say.  
  
They stopped walking, and Phila looked at her shoes again, her ears pink. Sometimes she regretted ever saying anything at all.  
  
“You… really think that?” Emmeryn finally said, and Phila looked up. She was blushing a rosy pink the same shade as her dress, her brilliant blue eyes glinting in the early summer evening light. A light breeze off the lake ran itself through her hair. Phila felt her knees go weak, but she nodded.  
  
“Why wouldn’t I?” she shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal, like she tossed out compliments like that all the time— but it _was_ kind of a big deal, because you didn’t just say that to people. Maybe Phila was just being dumb.  
  
“No one’s ever said that to me before,” Emmeryn mumbled. “That’s… it’s really sweet of you to say so.” She smiled, looking almost shy, and tucked her hair behind her ear. Phila felt her hands grow sweaty.  
  
“Hey, there’s a place near here we can sit down, if you want,” she suggested. “It’s this pier no one really uses anymore, so we won’t be bothered. My dad and I used to sail out on the lake from here during the fall and spring.”  
  
“That sounds wonderful,” Emmeryn decided, the pleasant, sugar-sweet smile she usually had coming back onto her face. Maybe she really was honestly happy about everything, but Phila wasn’t convinced that was it. It didn’t seem terribly genuine, even if it was a lovely smile.  
  
The pier wasn’t too far from there, though the old extention of a boardwalk that’d been there once still remained, with its steps down to the platform extending out over the lake, and splintery pillars still holding it up over the sand and shoreline. Someone had hung a tire swing from the underside of it, and it was an unspoken rule that no one was allowed to take it down.  
  
Phila shifted her guitar case on her shoulder, and started up the steps, leading Emmeryn by the hand. “I know it looks kind of rickety, because it is, but this thing has been standing since before I was born. If it were anything else, it’d be haunted, but it’s not. It just got struck by lightning once.”  
  
“Is that why there’s no rest of it?” Emmeryn guessed, careful not to run her hand over the weather-beaten wood.  
  
“Yeah, it was under construction and the rest of it burned up,” Phila shrugged. “The mooring posts are just down there. You can get up close and personal with the lake!”  
  
“This is kind of cool,” Emmeryn admitted, looking down the steps to the platform built over the water. “Do you come out here very much?”  
  
“If I have an excuse to vanish for a few hours, yeah,” Phila shrugged. “I come out here to practice a lot. It’s a good spot to sit, especially at this time of day.”  
  
 Emmeryn curiously wandered a few steps down the stairs to the little deck, peering forwards to get a closer look. “I hope it doesn’t collapse,” she murmured. “I can’t swim.”  
  
“It’ll be fine,” Phila insisted. “I can swim, so I’ll help you if you fall in. The water is kind of cold, though.”  
  
Emmeryn pursed her lips, like she was about to bring up a concern, but decided not to. It was an adventure, she’d decided. That also happened to be a date. Sure, why not? Dates and adventures could coexist. Every day was an adventure in its own right, really. At least, that was what Emmeryn tried to think.  
  
She crouched when she got to the bottom, looking at the lake water shifting underneath the pier. It couldn’t have been very deep, but it was a dark blue that made it seem much deeper than it actually was. There were probably fish in there, she’d guess, loads of them. Freshwater lake-type fish, though, and nothing too huge or carniverous. It wasn’t that scary.  
  
Phila had sat down next to her, guitar case in her lap. She fiddled with the latches for a moment, before hesitating and then opening it up. Emmeryn wasn’t really paying attention until the case was shifted aside and the guitar into Phila’s lap, and she started plucking experimentally at the strings.  
  
It was a lovely acoustic guitar, and Phila was personally very proud of it. It wasn’t a very fancy instrument, but it was decorated with logo and name stickers from bands Emmeryn didn’t recognize. Phila noticed her staring and blushed.  
  
“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked, scratching sheepishly at the area behind her ear. “I mean… if you like, I’d like to play for you, a little. I don’t write my own songs, but I know a lot of other people’s, so if you want, I could… play… something… you like, mabye…” Phila trailed off towards the end, embarrassed she’d even suggested it. It wasn’t the kind of embarrassment that came with being ashamed of showing someone you liked a hobby, because Phila was proud of her skill with music, but more like regretting mentioning such a thing because the confidence to show off was rapidly fading. What if Emmeryn didn’t like Jack Johnson, after all?  
  
Emmeryn’s face lit up. “Oh, I don’t mind at all! Any song is alright,” she insisted, sitting next to Phila. Close to her, so their shoulders were touching— close enough that Phila’s cheeks flushed.  
  
“Alright, well,” Phila cleared her throat. “Here goes nothing, right?”  
  
She chuckled a little, and then started to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Author's note: I shamelessly quoted a panel of Homestuck for this. Yes, I am in fact, human trash. (The panel in question: http://www.mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=002796)
> 
> The song Phila played: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RfoqELZWcp8


	3. Kiss Me Magically

The night of May thirtieth had been magical.  
  
Phila had taken Emmeryn for a walk along the lakeshore, where they’d sat together as Phila played her guitar while the sun went down. They’d talked, they’d laughed, they had sat with shoulders together and fingers interlaced in quiet as evening faded to the humming ambience of a summer night. Phila walked her home in a haze of silly laughter and something watermelon-scented, joined hands swinging to the rhythm of one of the songs Phila had played then. Loose, carefree smiles met on Emmeryn’s porch without a thought behind it, but neither of them seemed to mind much. They exchanged emails. Phila made the background of her cell phone a picture of Emmeryn she’d taken with her laughing to herself, head stretched back as wind over the lake caressed her face. She’d ridden her bike home and sat down against the inside of her front door, her vision tinged pink, and pressed her hands to her face. _Magic._  
  
June arrived quickly, and with it came the bulk of vacationers. Not enough to keep any of the town businesses consistently busy, but enough that Emmeryn and her siblings weren’t the only customers she ever saw.  
  
Though they still came every other Tuesday, and ordered the same thing. And sometimes they’d stay and talk for a bit, listening to the annoying ticking of the stupid clock Phila hated so much and the jukebox in the corner playing its mechanical little heart out for an empty room. Sometimes they kissed, other times Emmeryn just pecked her cheek and waved goodbye, because they couldn’t stay for as long that time.  
  
Naturally, if given a chance to see Emmeryn outside of her workplace, Phila would jump at it. So what if she hadn’t babysat since she was fourteen? And Emmeryn would be there, anyway, so it wasn’t even _really_ babysitting. It was more like just… going over to Emmeryn’s house, like friends did. Only by now, Phila was pretty sure they were definitely more than friends.  
  
When Phila arrived, Emmeryn’s sister opened the door again.  
  
“Are you here to take Emm on a date again?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. The smudge on her cheek appeared to be strawberry syrup this time, and she’d stuffed her crayons into the front pocket of her overall shorts. “‘Cause Emm said you were coming, but didn’t really say if you were staying or not.”  
  
“I think I’m staying this time,” Phila recalled. “Will your dad be alright with it?”  
  
“Papa’s out today,” Lissa said simply. “And Emm’s real excited because it means she can have friends over. Papa doesn’t like Emm’s friends, an’ it’s because Emm says he’s a—“  
  
_“BUTTHEAD!”_ came a frustrated cry from the living room. The falter at the beginning led Phila to think whoever had shouted— Emmeryn’s brother, probably, unless there was another eleven-year-old boy in the house— was going to say something much stronger.  
  
“That’s Chrom,” Lissa said with the nonchalance only a grade-schooler that lived with this sort of thing on a daily basis could have. “He gets real angry at his games when they don’t let him keep the swords.”  
  
“What game is he…” Phila mumbled, but she trailed off. “Is Emmeryn around? I brought her a present, and…”  
  
“Ooh,” Lissa sang, a grin springing to her face. “Yeah, I’ll go get her! You can go in and sit on the couch and stuff, just don’t step on any of my pictures.”  
  
With that the little girl bounded up the stairs two at a time, leaving Phila to awkwardly shuffle in and shut the door behind her, guitar case on her back and a small bunch of violets tied up in a blue ribbon in her hand. Emmeryn liked violets, didn’t she? She probably did, everyone liked violes.  
  
The house was bigger than Phila had expected, for a vacation home, and it was cluttered with toys and games like no one cared enough to clean it all up. The sink was piled with dirty plates and cups in a way that would’ve made Phila’s mother furious, and a good dozen of the pictures on the walls were cock-eyed, like someone had knocked them off-kilter when smashing into the wall and hadn’t put them back. It was odd, in a way, seeing such a nice house look so dishevled. Who was taking care of it?  
  
Emmeryn then hurried down the stairs and took Phila by surprise, kissing her cheek in excitement.  
  
“I’m so glad you’re here!” she said happily. “I was worried you wouldn’t be able to make it. Dad hardly ever stays out all day, so I don’t know when the next time you’ll be able to come over will be.”  
  
“Where is your dad, anyway?” Phila found herself asking. “I mean, you’ve mentioned him, but I haven’t ever seen him.”  
  
Emmeryn’s bright smile darkened into a scowl that made Phila wish she hadn’t asked. “He’s just out,” she said vaguely, and Phila gathered that Emmeryn’s relationship to her father was rockier than she was letting on.  
  
“Oh, hey, I brought you some flowers,” Phila said with a shy little grin, offering Emmeryn the bunch of violets that had been behind her back. “You don’t mind, do you? I mean, unless you’d prefer not to have flowers, since those can cause athsma attacks, and things…” She trailed off then, somewhat embarrassed. Perhaps she should’ve gotten chocolate after all.  
  
Once more, Emmeryn’s face lit up, though Phila got the sense that the clouds were just lurking at the edges instead of completely banished. “Oh, no, of course not,” she insisted. “Cut flowers are fine. That’s so sweet of you!”  
  
She took the flowers, smiling in a way that made Phila’s heart skip a beat. She hoped she wasn’t blushing— though who was she kidding, she totally was— and there was a silly little grin on her face, too.  
  
“Are you thirsty?” Emmeryn asked, breaking the silence. “I think we’ve got some apple juice left over…” She hummed thoughtfully to herself, though since the only way to find out was to look, she took Phila’s hand and gently led her towards the kitchen on one side of the house.  
  
Lissa craned her neck to look over the rail on the landing, watching her older sister and another girl who was _probably_ her sister’s girlfriend walk through the house. It was weird having someone else over, since there weren’t many other kids her age that went on vacation in this particular vacation town. Lissa was an extroverted little girl, sure, but the other kids she saw around town were either gross or snobby. Usually it was just her and Chrom downstairs, while Emmeryn stayed in her room reading or something. This was decidedly different.  
  
She kept her eyes on Emmeryn and Phila as she padded downstairs and plopped down on the big couch next to Chrom, who was growling in frustration at his video game. “Hey, Chrom, can girls kiss other girls?”  
  
“Probably,” Chrom said with a shrug, jabbing at the controls. “I mean, dad says it’s not right, but Emm does, and I think I believe Emm more. Emm knows stuff.”  
 Lissa nodded solemnly. Emm _did_ know stuff. She was _almost in college,_ and to Lissa, that meant she was pretty much a grownup. But unlike most other grownups, Emm actually explained things so Lissa could understand them, and that made her far more credible than other grownups. Emm, as Chrom had said, knew stuff.  
  
“I think Emm and the ice cream lady are gonna kiss,” Lissa said matter-of-factly. “They look like Ruby and Sapphire, I think, and Ruby and Sapphire kiss a lot. Are they gonna kiss, Chrom?”  
  
Chrom grunted, mostly at his game. “Dunno. Ask them.” He hadn’t really meant it, but Lissa, being all of seven, took it literally.  
  
Her blue eyes blinked open in realization. What a great idea, she thought. Older kids were super smart! Why hadn’t she just asked?  
  
She hopped off the couch while Chrom was absorbed in his game, which went unnoticed, and walked purposefully over to the kitchen, watching Emmeryn and Phila talk while standing in the doorway.  
  
Emmeryn had put the violets in a glass, for lack of anywhere else, and set the glass on the kitchen table. She was sitting down in one of the kitchen chairs while Phila was leaning on the table, guitar case across her lap. They looked like they were having fun talking, even if the topic wasn’t anything too important. Lissa couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Emmeryn smile like that— not the pretend smile she gave her siblings so they wouldn’t worry even though they all knew it didn’t work.  
  
Lissa walked in without announcing her presence, and sat down in another one of the chairs, next to Emmeryn, swinging her little legs idly. She looked at Phila first, who took notice of her but perhaps was too polite to say anything, and then to Emmeryn, who took it in stride as she did many things.  
  
 “Hey, Emm?” Lissa asked first, tugging on Emmeryn’s sleeve with her little hand. Immediately the conversation between Phila and Emmeryn paused as Emm gave her attention to the little girl next to her. Phila couldn’t help but notice how alike they looked then— they both had the same blue eyes, and pale hair, and graceful features. Of course Lissa’s were still pudgy and undefined from childhood, but it was easy to see they were related.  
  
“Hmm?” Emmeryn questioned. “Is something on your mind, Lissa?” Emmeryn was used to Lissa coming up and asking her questions while she had friends over (and she _did_ have friends, just not very many), and she couldn’t very well discourage it.  
  
“Yeah,” Lissa said matter-of-factly. “Are you and Phila gonna kiss? Like a real kiss, though. Not on the cheeks. I didn’t know, so I asked Chrom, and he said to ask you.”  
  
“Did he now,” Emmeryn managed, cheeks flushing as red as Phila’s. “Well… that’s… um.”  
  
“You said two girls could kiss if they wanted to!” Lissa insisted. “And you want to, right? I heard you talking to Aversa about it. You said Phila was really cute and charming, right? I heard it!”  
  
Emmeryn buried her beet-red face in her hands. “Lissa, please,” she said weakly. “What did I tell you about eavesdropping?”  
  
“To not to,” Lissa said plainly. “But you were talking kinda loud, so I could hear you from the bathroom. And you did say it! It’s illegal to lie, remember?”  
  
Emmeryn was beginning to regret just not shooing Lissa away to begin with. More than that, she was regretting not taking Phila up to her room, where they could talk in private without interruption. Lissa may have been able to listen then, sure, but it was a rule that she and Chrom were Not Allowed in Emmeryn’s Room, and thus Emmeryn could stave off interrogation until after Lissa got bored and forgot about it. Oh, but there she was, being bombarded with the questionings of an innocent seven-year-old who lacked a filter for things like this. She had never felt more embarrassed in her life— and yes, including the time she whacked the medical intern that had drawn the short straw in the children’s ward in the knees with an IV pole in front of a captive audience of grade-schoolers.  
  
She reluctantly peeped out from between her fingers to see if Phila looked as embarrassed as she was— and to Phila’s credit, she was doing a very good job of not Actually Dying right then and there (though rest assured, Phila was feeling very much like if the world opened up and swallowed her, she’d shake hands with the Devil on the way down).  
  
Lissa stared at Emmeryn impatiently, not noticing anything was wrong, and Emmeryn finally caved. “Sure, Lissa,” she sighed. “Sure, we’re going to kiss. It’s what grownups do. Does that answer your question?”  
  
Despite everything Lissa knew about her sister, she hadn’t expected Emmeryn to give such a straightforward answer. “When?” she asked, the follow-up question Emmeryn had been dreading.  
  
“Sometime,” Emmeryn said vaguely, glancing pleadingly at Phila to give her an out. It took a full three seconds for Phila to get it, but she did.  
  
“Right now,” Phila blurted, pushing herself into a standing position. Immediately, her confidence flagged, and she turned her gaze from Emmeryn’s face to the toes of her shoes. “I-I mean. If that’s alright.”  
  
This was one surprise after another, but like anything life threw at her (and life had a damn good arm), Emmeryn just had to weather it. She took a breath and stood up, making the brief half-step it took to get her next to Phila, and setting her hands on Phila’s cheeks.  
  
“If you’re alright with it,” she mumbled, before throwing dignity to the wind and kissing that girl then and there, their noses squashing together. Phila leaned backwards in surprise, catching herself on the table, as the distance between them was closer than it had ever really been before. The simple little pecks on cheeks and noses and foreheads they’d exchanged before were nothing compared to this, this full-faced meeting of Emmeryn’s lips on Phila’s. The sharp, cool scent of peppermint and aloe filled Phila’s senses, but her lips were pink and warm and soft and it was all Phila could to to keep from sinking into her then and there. A red twist of sensual affection stirred in her then— Phila had the urge to pull her closer, kiss her harder, hold her tighter. It pulled like a guitar laced too tight, a piano string a bit too taut, things inside Phila tugging and twisting and fluttering and pulling and singing, all at once. It was a nervous, clumsy kiss between two who hadn’t yet gotten to know each other quite well enough to have the contours of the other’s face mapped out on their lips, but to Phila, right then, it was a grand crescendo of music she’d forget as soon as Emmeryn’s lips pulled back, another tune that wasn’t hers, that she’d never write.  
  
The kiss hadn’t lasted terribly long, as far as kisses go, but it was long enough that Lissa got bored watching them and went back to Chrom to relay the news. She’d gotten her answer, she was satisfied. All she’d really needed was the yes or the no, and the when had been optional. (She knew better than to tell Emmeryn that, though.)  
  
Emmeryn finally pulled away, cool air rushing over Phila’s lips where Emm’s had been. Phila was sure she’d back away then, sit back down— but instead she pressed her forehead to Phila’s, taking a breath for the first time in what felt like a year.  
  
“You kiss really well,” Emmeryn murmured.  
  
“So do you,” Phila replied.  
  
“Can you stay until dad gets home?” was the next soft thing Emmeryn said, and Phila’s hair tickled her jaw when she nodded.  
  
“I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emm and her siblings watch 'Steven Universe' but Phila doesn't and you know that really needs to be remedied.
> 
> There are no actual songs played in this chapter, but this is what I was listening to while writing it: http://lullatone.bandcamp.com/album/soundtracks-for-everyday-adventures


	4. Is It Love Yet?

Emmeryn's father did not get home for quite a long time.  
  
In that time, Phila demonstrated her cooking skills to Emmeryn and her siblings (she made box spaghetti), played six rounds of _Mortal Kombat_ with Chrom, bore witness to Emmeryn's glare (which was somehow the cutest thing she'd ever seen) upon uttering the words 'Mortal Chrombat,' watched most of a kid's movie with Emm and her siblings, carried Lissa to bed when she fell asleep at the end of it, knocked Chrom on his butt with a Nerf sword, described the plot of _Star Wars_ in detail to Emmeryn (who had somehow never seen any of the movies), played a few Top 40 songs at her request, consumed three cans of ginger ale and shared half a box of Lucky Charms with Emmeryn. By the end of it, there was a cloud of buzzing caffienation around her vision and she and Emm had somehow ended up lying on the couch, tangled up together while the television cast a blue glow over the darkened living room.  
  
She didn't know how long she lay there, Emmeryn tucked into her side, but eventually one of them had to speak.  
  
"Are we dating, Phila?" Emm finally asked, shifting herself so her head was on Phila's chest. "I mean… I've never been with anyone before. But this is the sort of thing people do when they're dating, isn't it?"  
  
"Yeah," Phila nodded. Truth be told, she'd never really been with anyone either, not since high school— that on-and-off with Katie from music theory in freshman year was one thing, and she was still certain that Janine from economics had only kissed her sophomore year on a dare, and she had sort of taken her entire volleyball team to prom so that probably didn't count. "I mean… unless you don't want us to be."  
 "If it involves more of this, then I don't think I mind," Emmeryn admitted. "Of course, if my father finds out…"  
  
Phila frowned. "He doesn't want you dating?"  
  
"He doesn't want me dating girls, especially," Emm sighed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. "He doesn't think lesbians exist. I keep saying that I'm one of them, but he refuses to believe me. The level of idiocy he has is sort of incredible. How did he get to run a corporation?"  
  
Phila gathered two things from that: One, that Emmeryn's dad was a bigoted jackass, and two, that Emmeryn was probably richer than anyone else she'd met. No _wonder_ she'd spoken so lightly about having to choose between medical school and law school— the financial question of it was probably negligible.  
  
"We don't have to be," she said again. "I mean… if it's going to be an issue. I don't want to get you in trouble."  
  
Emm rolled her eyes. "Phila, it'll be fine. He won't even believe me. I mean, that isn't to say we should kiss and such in front of him, but he's never around. I don't even know what he does here. We're supposed to be on vacation and he still finds a way to saddle me with Chrom and Lissa."  
  
"Your dad doesn't sound like a very good dad," Phila commented. "If I can say so."  
  
"Well, you'd be right," Emm shrugged. "That's entirely fair. It wouldn't be hard to keep us a secret from him, so long as he keeps his up delusion that I'm not gay." She chuckled a little at that, as if it were funny to think herself as anything but gayer than a rainbow wearing flannel. Or perhaps a rainbow-colored flannel shirt— didn't Phila have one of those? (For a split second, she thought about wearing it when meeting Emm's father, but then realized the point would likely be lost.)  
  
"Wow," Phila whistled appreciatively. "That's quite a feat of ignorance. My dad figured out I was gay before _I_ did, and I was like, seven at the time. He'd be more shocked if I told him I was doing something with my life."  
  
"Well, technically, you are," Emm shrugged. "Living it."  
  
"Har har. You know what I mean," Phila retorted, kissing her head gently. "Honestly, it's a little pathetic. I'm almost nineteen years old and I've already wasted it all."  
  
"Almost nineteen?" Emm sat up, looking at Phila in surprise. "You're eighteen now? When was your birthday?"  
  
"Well, it's in October," Phila explained, frowning. She hadn't considered a possible age gap. "What about you?"  
  
"I turn eighteen in December," Emmeryn confessed. That wasn't so bad, Phila had to admit, but then, laws were sort of a thing. Emm was quick to continue that line of thought, though. "I mean, about fourteen months isn't that big of a difference, so I'm sure that's fine, law-wise. At worst, I think it'd just be a misdemeanor if something happens to go horribly wrong. Though I'm not entirely clear on the policies in this state, since the law books I got my hands on were all on federal laws."  
  
"If we wanted to play it safe…" Phila trailed off.  
  
"But I like being with you," Emm insisted. "Really! And something tells me that this isn't the kind of thing that just-friends do."  
  
It wasn't, but Phila didn't say that. "Are you sure you're alright with it, though? I mean… legally…"  
  
Emm rolled her eyes. "Phila, it's fine, I promise. I know my laws."  
  
"Right, right," Phila remembered. "You're going into law school."  
  
"Or medical school," Emm added. "I still can't believe I have to pick."  
  
Phila chuckled. "You'll be great at it, whatever you do."  
  
Emm shifted, and Phila pushed herself up on her elbows. "And what about you, huh?"  
  
"What _about_ me?" Phila looked puzzled.  
  
"Well, what do you want to do?" Emmeryn asked, like it was obvious. "Like… are you going to go to college, or anything?"  
  
Phila frowned. She thought briefly about saying she didn't know and leaving it at that, but Emmeryn deserved a real answer. She'd thought about a lot of things— being a mechanic, maybe, or doing something with horses, or going into the Air Force, even if none of those things really sounded right. What she really wanted to do was become a musician, but nobody had to tell her how likely _that_ was. She couldn't even write her own songs.  
  
The night was quiet as Phila thought and Emmeryn waited for her to speak. Fireflies flickered outdoors wherever you weren’t looking, cicadas screeching muffled behind glass screen doors and windowpanes. If it were another summer, one in the past, Phila would’ve been tapping out rhythms on her keyboard in a shoebox bedroom that smelled perpetually like instrument polish and dirty socks. She’d jot down lyrics to songs she’d never write, sketch half-baked ideas for airplanes she’d never build, write the formulas for summer physics homework she wouldn’t do, flip through the chapters of assigned books she’d never read while dirty laundry she'd never take care of and candy wrappers she'd never throw away piled up higher and higher— because what was the point, she’d just have to do it again, and someone else had probably done it better, anyway.  
  
Phila had come to terms with the fact that she’d never really be anything special. She wasn’t going to write a song no one had ever heard before, wasn’t going to fly a plane no one had ever flown before, wasn’t going to be remembered for her grades in the past or in the future. It wasn’t a bad life, by any means— there was something liberating about the fact that she wasn’t going to leave a huge impact on the world and no one really expected her to. She loved her family, loved the friends she’d made, loved what she did. But really? She was just that girl that did odd jobs for ten bucks, pulled stupid stunts on dares, would probably work the counter at her family’s ice cream shop until she was thirty-five.  
  
But with Emmeryn, the old ‘I’ll settle for what I have while pretending I have ambition’ attitude felt like a big, heavy coat— it was comforting, and shielding in the cold, but when the sun came out, it got too hot to suffer under. She didn’t just feel like doing _something_ , she felt like she could do _anything_. And then that even if she failed, it’d be alright, because she’d still be enough. She didn’t need to be special with Emmeryn. And that gave her courage, a burning deep in her core that she supposed she'd always had but never noticed until it grew strong enough to warm her from the inside out, a burning red flame that made her want to pull Emm closer, hold her tighter, as if they could meld into one being if they tried hard enough. It flickered pink every time Emm smiled, and radiated violet every time Phila thought about her. It was the fire that gave her the courage to say anything at all then, especially in the way she did.  
  
"Well," she finally said. "I've sort of always wanted to be a musician. I mean, I haven't written any of my own songs, but…"  
  
"But you know your instrument really well!" Emmeryn contributed. "You make it look so easy— like breathing. I wish I could do that."  
  
"Don't sell yourself short," Phila shrugged. "I think you're pretty great the way you are."  
  
Phila only wished that covered a quarter of what she thought of Emm— but how exactly did she say what she really thought? Sometimes words just didn't cut it. Phila heard music, a sweet little refrain, but it sounded a little like 'She Keeps Me Warm,' and Phila had to think that if she were going to be reminded of lesbian love songs, she could at _least_ think of something a bit less overused.  
  
Emmeryn checked the time on the screen of her phone— it was after eleven, which was almost surprising. Of course Phila had known it was late, but she hadn't realized it would take Emm's father so long to get home.  
  
"I should take this stuff back upstairs," Emmeryn noted, glancing to her brother's toy swords scattered on the floor. "And it's getting kind of late anyway. You should probably go home."  
  
"I'll help you clean up," Phila insisted. "I mean, you asked me to stay until your dad gets home."  
  
Emm, reluctantly taking Phila up on her offer, handed her a few of the foam swords. "Yeah, but that was when I thought he'd be home two hours ago. Are you sure there's no one wondering where you are?"  
  
"I'm eighteen, Emm," Phila shrugged, picking up her guitar case on principle. "I told my mom I'd be out late, so no one's going to question it."  
  
Emmeryn didn't seem terribly convinced, but let it go and led Phila up the stairs to what could only be a playroom, given how clogged with miscellaneous toys it was. She was about to say something else when, as if on cue, a key turned in the lock of the house.  
  
Emm cursed under her breath. "That's my dad, hide!"  
  
Phila blinked as Emm grabbed her wrist and shoved her into what seemed to be a bedroom. "Wait, wha—"  
  
But there was no point in objecting. Through the slatted door of the bedroom, Phila heard Emm's father climb the stairs and say something to Emmeryn, who replied with something about how her siblings were in bed and had eaten dinner. There was an unmistakable bite to her words— as if she were asking him why he hadn't made sure of that like he was supposed to as a parent, instead of making her do it like he _always_ did.  
  
They talked for a few minutes— Phila didn't really pay much attention to the conversation, though it sounded like a passive-aggressive snark-off. And then Emm said she was going to bed, her voice closer to the door, so Phila ducked into the closet and prayed this wasn't too incredibly weird as she opened the door, under the guess that her father would follow.  
  
He did, and through the slats of the closet, Phila got her first good look at him.  
  
She had to admit she saw the family resemblance— they had the same eyes, and they stood the same way, carried themselves with a sort of grace (ha ha) that wouldn't have been out of place if they were the ruling family of a country. Except where Emm was thoughtful and kind, her father reminded Phila of a politician, exactly the kind that believed lesbians didn't exist. Phila decided she didn't like him.  
  
Emm eventually managed to push him out of the room and close the door, locking it in the exact way you would if you wanted people outside to know you meant it. Phila took that opportunity to emerge from the closet.  
  
"So I guess that means I should be going, huh?" she murmured, glad she'd brought her case with her. "Since your dad's home now."  
  
Emmeryn blew a strand of hair out of her face. "Mm-hmm," she agreed. "Sorry about that. He wouldn't react well if he found out I'd called a friend over while he wasn't home. Can you climb?"  
  
Phila could tell this wasn't the first time this sort of thing had happened, but she didn't press the issue. "Pretty well, I'd say. Why?"  
  
"Dad's downstairs," Emm explained, cocking her head towards the door. "He isn't very observant, but I wouldn't push it. I don't know if he noticed your bike or not, but…"  
  
"Best not to find out," Phila agreed. "Though, ah, I have to ask— do you do this sort of thing often? Sneaking around your dad, and all?"  
  
Emmeryn shrugged, pushing her lacy curtains aside and unlocking one of the bay windows that faced the street. "I know it's wrong, but… well, if he doesn't respect what I say I'm capable of, why should I let him decide? I've looked after myself _and_ Chrom and Lissa for ages without his help. I don't need to let my father dictate my life when he isn't even in it."  
  
Phila was sure that was one of the saddest things she'd ever heard. Briefly, she thought about her own parents— they were both a bit scatterbrained and generally left Phila and her brother to their own devices now that they were older, but they were still family. It was difficult for Phila to imagine her goofy antiques-collector-slash-business-owner-slash-ice-cream-scientist of a dad doing anything like Emmeryn's.  
  
"Come over to my house sometime," Phila decided, taking her hand. "I'll make you a real dinner. Sound good?"  
  
"Will your parents be alright with it?" Emmeryn frowned. "I mean, I'd love to, but…"  
  
"They would _love_ you," Phila promised. "I mean, come on, what's not to love? You're cute and kind _and_ a genius, and you're determined enough to actually do something with your life."  
  
Emmeryn blushed. "Phila, please!"  
  
Phila chuckled, and kissed her nose. "Promise me you'll think about it, at least. Okay?"  
  
"Alright, alright," Emm ceded. "Be careful climbing down, alright?"  
  
Phila pushed the window open and leaned out, surveying the distance. It was only a one-story drop, but the shrubbery didn't look like the best place to land. She heard Emm suck in a breath, her hold on Phila's hand tightening.  
  
"Oh, this is fine," Phila decided, glancing to the tree branches within jumping distance. "I've done this loads of times."  
  
"Be careful," Emm mumbled. "I don't know how people do this sort of thing. I get nervous just watching."  
  
"Remind me not to take you hang-gliding, then," Phila joked— though she apologized quickly when Emm turned the same color as her curtains.  
  
It took a little doing, but Phila eventually wiggled out of the window so her feet were braced on the white brick, her elbow hooked on the windowsill. She tugged at her guitar case, pulling her knees up to prepare for the jump, while Emm tried very hard not to start biting her nails again.  
  
"Let's use the stairs next time," she suggested weakly, leaning on the windowsill and kissing Phila's head gently. "Less strain on my blood pressure."  
  
"Sure," Phila chuckled, leaning up and kissing her cheek. "Tomorrow's tuesday, isn't it? Will you come by the shop?"  
  
"Of course," Emmeryn promised. "Through the door, like a reasonable person."  
  
Phila shrugged, a little sheepish, and pressed a final goodbye kiss to her lips. "I'll see you then, alright?"  
  
"Mm-hmm," Emm nodded, a faint blush coloring her pale cheeks. With that, Phila launched herself into the tree in the front yard, sending Emm a final little wave before making her way down.  
  
By the time Phila had, as quietly as possible, walked her bike out to the street, Emm had closed the window, but she was still watching. Phila wanted to linger, to wave a goodbye to her before she really did have to leave, but she thought better of it. It wasn't like this was the last time they'd see each other, after all. So she settled for thinking it, her mind filled with the image of Emmeryn's little smile as she rode home.  
  
She came home to a quiet house, though that wasn't unusual, even for the hour. Though for the first time, it felt just a little bit lonelier than it had been when she'd left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM NOT DEAD HOORAY
> 
> when will the indie cliches stop? the answer is a resounding 'never'
> 
> In case you haven't heard 'She Keeps Me Warm': https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rG4nRI9Wmzk
> 
> Additional Really Gay Songs because we all need more of those right:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZQNj3thCdco  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJOP3v5g544  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BdapsI49jEg


End file.
